Salvation of a Pure Kind
by TakenHawkeye
Summary: Every man has his breaking point. This is Hawkeye's. A short story in which Hawkeye attempts escape, Rizzo is out of his element, and BJ is a true friend. Will review all who review me.


Stumbling from exhaustion, sun glaring directly into his eyes, Hawkeye was far from surprised to find Rizzo beneath a jeep (recalling that this was the same jeep that had been without a front wheel for three months now), sprawled out and deeply asleep. Managing to ignore the wide variety of quips that had suddenly sprung to mind, he gingerly lifted a foot and drove it straight into the side of the snoring lump. Momentarily, Hawkeye reflected that perhaps those sounds he seemed to be producing were not altogether human.

"Rizzo, I'm taking a jeep. Point me in the right direction and wave goodbye as I speed away, will you?" Hawkeye paused; staring intently as Rizzo merely rolled over, snorting. "What's that? Where am I going? Oh, well I thought to head over to Scott and Zelda's, see how the mood strikes me." Another snort followed by a bit of muttering. Fed up, Hawkeye quickly decided to try another approach. "Rizzo! Get up!"

To his surprise this seemed to work though it appeared to hardly go over well with the now alert Corporal.

"Buzz off!"

"Rizzo --"

"I said 'buzz off'." Irate and far from rested after just a three hour nap (which had followed a two hour siesta and -- before that -- eight hours of shut-eye), Rizzo lifted a hand to swat the prodding foot away.

Quickly, Hawkeye's patience evaporated, leaving behind a tired, sore, exhausted doctor who had just worked two shifts straight. "Rizzo, I'm tired, I'm sore, I'm exhausted, and I just worked two shifts straight. I'm taking a jeep."

Blinking one eye open, the weary Corporal raised an arm to shade himself from the harsh sunlight and peered up at the Captain before him. "You got authorization?"

Briefly, Hawkeye wondered how one could exactly turn a word like 'authorization' into 'aut-er-o-za-shin'. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and settled instead for lying through his teeth. "Of course I do. Now give me a jeep."

Rizzo sighed and pulled himself out from under the vehicle. Standing up and dusting himself off, he pointed at a piece of rusted metal atop three wheels and a flattened piece of rubber. "You can take ol' Bess there."

"I thank you and my sanity thanks you." Without wasting a moment, Hawkeye bounded over to the jeep and hurled himself into the driver's seat. "Keys, Rizzo?"

"Kick the steerin' wheel once, the brake twice, and tap that horn there." Immediately, Hawkeye complied, jumping as the engine roared to life beneath him. "Headin' somewhere, Cap'in?"

"I'll let you know when I get there."Suddenly, the reality of his plan hit Hawkeye full force. As the very real jeep lay waiting for his sign, he felt the humor drain away. "If I get there."

Rizzo, just as suddenly, became uncomfortably aware of how out of his element he was. "Uh, Cap'in, you sure --" He cut himself off, watching without realizing that the glint in Hawkeye's eyes had dimmed. Mind racing, he knew that stalling this spiritually battered surgeon would be one of the better ideas he had produced all day. "You want to hang on there, sir, and I'll get you some of that gas-o-line for your ve-hickle." Without waiting for a response, Rizzo scampered away, heading in the direction opposite of the gasoline.

Hawkeye supposed, had he realized this, the abrupt appearance of BJ at his side would not have been such a startling affair. Glaring as he picked himself up from the ground and back into the driver's seat, he firmly stated, "I'm going."

BJ, nodding silently, climbed behind Hawkeye and stretched out in the back. "Where are we going, then?"

He whipped his head around. "I'm going. You're staying."

"Can't. I'm already in the jeep. You know how I hate to move once I'm settled in." Propping himself up on one elbow, BJ stared at the man anxiously tapping at the steering wheel.

Hawkeye sighed. "It's days like these that make me want to stop practicing."

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink." BJ reached a hand out, trying to jar his friend back into reality.

Absentmindedly waving a hand, Hawkeye muttered, "I'm not thirsty."

The alarm this simple statement brought about was hurriedly pushed to the side. "Hawk --"

"I'm not sticking around." Wrapping his arms around the wheel, Hawkeye lowered his head until the cool metal pressed against his forehead. "I've stuck it out twice as long as I could bear, and for sanity's sake I'm going."

"Hawk, don't do this." BJ swallowed, aware of the way his throat was constricting. "We'll get Potter to write you a pass and --"

Humor left far behind, Hawkeye barreled right along to anger. Slamming a hand against the wheel, he looked away, staring out at the road leading past Rosie's Bar. "Dammit, Beej, I don't want a pass, I want out of here!" Out of the corner of his eye he caught the look BJ held. "Don't even dare try and have a talk with me. I've had it with talking. That's all we ever do here, talk and cut. That's all they've done at the peace talks and look where it's got us. Six new men dead a week."

"Last one wasn't new," BJ couldn't resist, "The last one was coming through here on his third trip."

Hawkeye gave a blank look that simply said now was not the time. "One more kid on a stretcher and I don't think I'll make it, Beej."

The seriousness of what was being said struck at BJ. There was no joking tone, no hidden smile, nothing but a raw truth that scraped at the inside of him more than he could say. Wordlessly, BJ stood up and made his way into the seat beside Hawkeye, motor still running beneath them. "They won't leave if you do."

Hawkeye darted his eyes over, feigning only mild interest in the other man's argument.

"They'll continue fighting and getting wounded, and they'll continue dying, with or without you, Hawk. You'll be gone, but they won't. If anything, the ones who depend on you won't get past the table of some incompetent fool, all while you sit in Crabapple Cove, Maine and pretend this place isn't a part of you. Pretend it hasn't seeped clean through your skin and into you, and tell yourself you can go back to how you were before."

Hawkeye could feel the wrinkles setting in. "I had to be a surgeon."

"You love it just as much as you hate it." BJ answered, his voice filled with the air of a man who knew.

The glint in his eyes was gone completely, and BJ wondered if it would ever return. Almost painfully, Hawkeye stepped out of the jeep. "I'm not going." Resigned.

"You're not?"

"I told you not to talk."

BJ grinned, hiding his relief. "I never was one to take orders."

Hawkeye left the jeep running and staggered toward the Swamp in the brilliant sun. Bitterly, he tossed over his shoulder to the closely following BJ, "Welcome to the Army."


End file.
